


Pieces of Me

by AkinoAme



Series: Kings and Vagabonds [2]
Category: Kamen Rider OOO
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3157001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkinoAme/pseuds/AkinoAme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of "Kings and Vagabonds," Eiji tries to recover from the physical and mental turmoil he went through in the past. But with old wounds aggravated by new, he has a hard time finding his way back to himself. And asking others to help carry a burden he knows is heavy may be harder than trying to shoulder it himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieces of Me

                The King is there in his dreams, sometimes. He knows this from the nights in the hospital in Germany, but with the excitement of coming home, he thought it was over.

                The first week he's back, he learns he's not as home safe as he wishes he could be.

                The King rips the wings off of Ankh and forces him to plummet to the ground. Eiji tries to run over to help him, but the King attaches the wings to his back, so painfully he collapses in tears.

                "Are you their guardian angel?" the King asks, as he had in front of the children.

                "No," he gasps out.

                "Then serve me," the King insists. "And become a god."

                "No!" he screams.

                He wakes up when he realizes he's crying for real.

                His breathing is shaky as he sits up and pulls off his shirt, desperately feeling along his back to be sure that this was just a dream. There's a scar there, but it's from a knife, not from a wing, and he starts crying harder. He doesn't know if it's relief that he was dreaming or fear that he's losing control of his mind and honestly beginning to believe his dreams. Either way, he can't stop.

                He forgets Date's still in the room with him until the light turns on and he's there next to him, urging him to take a deep breath. He tries, but he's still choking on tears. Date stays with him until he's calmed down a little, then quickly heads out and gets him a cup of water.

                "Nightmares again?" he asks. Eiji nods as he slowly sips the water. He's trembling all over.

                "It's the King," he finally says, and his voice shakes just as much as his hands. "I thought the nightmares would end after I got back, but..."

                It's stupid to think that way, and he knows it. It took months to get past what happened to him in Africa. Why would this take any less time?

                Date's voice is kind as he says, "Your first appointment with Dr. Kunieda is in a few days. Want me to move it up?"

                He shrugs. He honestly doesn't know. But he doesn't want to go through this again.

                "Don't tell the others," he begs, quietly. His homecoming/birthday party was only two days ago, and everyone had finally relaxed. The last thing he wants is to worry them all over again.

                "That depends," Date promises. "Both on me, and on Dr. Kunieda."

                He nods; he knows it's the best compromise he can get. He gives Date back the cup, but he reaches for Ankh's Medal. Its wound is deep, but the Medal is still strong. It won't break again anytime soon.

                Eiji hopes the same thing holds true for him, and he inhales deeply.

                "Try to get some sleep," Date tells him.

                He nods and lies down again, still holding the Medal. If Ankh's awake enough to protect him from his own mind, he doesn't know, but the King doesn't return that night.

 

~~~

 

                Dr. Kunieda is the therapist the Foundation hired to help him through recovery, and from the sound of it, Eiji's not the first Rider he's had to treat. He's not sure how he feels about it. On the one hand, he likes knowing that he's not alone. On another, the fact that there is such an exclusive club of people with amazing power and terrible inner demons is frightening. Riders have to deal with so much more than anyone else; they have power that so few people can imagine. Eiji isn't the only one who could be dangerous if he lost control.

                All of his sessions are at the Kougami Foundation; because of the extent of his injuries and illness and the very fact that he traveled through time by accident and almost became something akin to a god, the Foundation's made it a high-level secret exactly what happened to him. The only people who know are Eiji's friends. But for treatment purposes, Dr. Kunieda has special authorization.

                He sits there anxiously the first session. He's not sure he's ready to approach the issue of his misadventure in time. The scars he carries from it are just as physical as they are mental—he's still in a wheelchair most of the time, his body too weak to stand and walk beyond a few steps. He needs naps frequently throughout the day, and what sleep he gets at night is usually interrupted by nightmares. His wounds hurt, and his strength is mostly depleted. He knows this will pass, just like it always has.

                He doesn't know how to approach the issue of his past either. It's something he rarely talks about if he can help it—he doesn't want to wish it away (no, that's not true—he _does_ wish it hadn't happened, that no war ever happened and that children didn't just die like that), but the memories still sometimes threaten to open that void in him again.

                "Are you all right?" Dr. Kunieda asks.

                He doesn't know the answer to that, so he just says, "I'm fine."

                "I know this can be uncomfortable," the doctor insists, "so we'll take it one step at a time. From what Mr. Kougami told me, you've gone through a lot over the past few years."

                He still doesn't know what to say—probably won't for a long time.

                In the face of silence, Dr. Kunieda tries another approach and asks, "Why don't you start by telling me what you plan on doing once you've recovered?"

                It's funny. Once, he'd never been able to consider the idea of "tomorrow," any point in time past the present. He didn't plan, he didn't dream, he didn't have goals. But now, he opens up and begins talking about his work in Germany and the theory he wants to prove. And it's so much easier than considering "today" or "yesterday."

 

~~~

 

                While he was traveling, Chiyoko hired a part-timer to help pick up the slack at the restaurant. Harada Takuya seems instantly likeable—he's polite, friendly, bit of a sarcastic streak but nothing really offensive, and willing to do just about everything asked of him. Hina gets along with him great.

                Eiji should, but something happens that sours his opinion of him a little, just a couple of weeks after he got back. He's tired and heads up to his room to rest—he's done it so many times he can do it with his eyes closed. He's walking on his own better, and he can get around the attic without the chair. It shouldn't be a problem.

                But the moment he gets in the door, he loses his balance. Tries to lean against the nearest support, but it turns out that's the stack of junk Ankh used to sleep on, and it's not as stable as it used to be. Eiji doesn't remember if he fell first or if the stack collapsed, but he's caught underneath the couch and in pain.

                Takuya's the first one to hear the crash, and he sprints upstairs and digs him out immediately. Everyone else follows a minute later, and once they've checked to make sure he's okay, Takuya helps him stand and looks around the room.

                "Well, that'd explain how that happened," he says. "Sorry to say, but you've got a real mess here. You've got stuff stacked up, things you don't even use, decorations for the restaurant I've never even seen, and then this pile of junk? I'm surprised this didn't happen earlier. No wonder you don't bring the wheelchair up here. You need to clean this stuff out of here—it's not safe."

                He's completely oblivious to how Eiji and Hina freeze, or the sad way Chiyoko reluctantly nods.

                "You're right," she agrees. "There's only so much we can do just rearranging things."

                Eiji's not ready for this change. Not when he's gotten so much closer to bringing Ankh back. But he can't say that in front of Takuya, and he argues, "Chiyoko, you can't. This is your attic."

                "It's _your room_ ," she replies. "You deserve your own space in your own home."

                She doesn't realize how much it stings to remind him this is his home. The first home he's had in years, the first place _ever_ where he's truly belonged, loved and accepted by everyone around him. The one place he can always return to, no matter where and when in the world he's been.

                But it's Ankh's home too, and if they get rid of everything, where is he going to stay?

                Hina takes his hand and whispers, "When Ankh comes back, we'll make sure he's got a place too. Okay?"

                It doesn't make it any easier, but he nods. Takuya gets to work right away on clearing things out of the way and starts making plans with Chiyoko to pick up a shed for her to keep the restaurant and travel things in. Eiji can't find it in his heart to hate him, but he does resent him a little bit. Plans being made without asking him first, changes happening without making sure he's okay with it, a lost friend being shuffled away.

                He decides to keep out of Takuya's way for a while, at least until he can stop holding this against him. It's unfair, he knows. But it's also unfair how no one talked to him about it first.

 

~~~

 

                Date checks him to make sure he's okay. The examination is physical, based on both of their experience, and they can tell he hasn't broken anything. Some of the bruises are nasty, though, and all he can do is sit with ice and pain relief compresses.

                "We'll keep an eye on those," Date promises. "Anything feels off, tell me right away. Not letting anything get worse, understand?"

                Eiji nods, but overall, he's gone silent. He's tired of this. Tired of having to sit down so frequently, tired of needing help to get around, tired of losing his balance or his strength giving out on him if he's standing too long. Tired of feeling tired.

                "At this rate, you're going to keep me in business by yourself for a long time," Date jokes, but Eiji's not in the mood. "C'mon. Don't be like that. It was an accident."

                "I know," he sighs. "I even told Ankh when he first stacked everything that it would be dangerous." He can still remember the way Ankh told him off, asked what good was a human body if it could be hurt by such a little fall, and it feels like yesterday. Ankh never fell, though—whether it was because he was a bird or because he really had done a good job stacking it, Eiji doesn't know.

                He hasn't missed Ankh this badly since that final battle. He knows he can bring him back. He just doesn't know how, or when.

                "Listen," Date says, interrupting his thoughts, "don't hold it against the new kid that he got rid of everything. Your room's not working for you, and if Anko knew you were too stubborn to change it even if you got hurt, you know what he'd say?"

                He manages to smile. "No, but there'd be a lot of yelling."

                "And probably a lot more work for me," Date agrees. "Still, though. Maybe you should talk to Dr. Kunieda about this."

                Eiji looks at him in confusion. "You mean about Ankh?"

                "Well, yeah," he admits, "but everything you're going through now too. You still have to rest a lot, you have to monitor your meals to make sure you don't faint if you don't eat enough, and you nearly died from poisoning, energy drain, getting cut open in the chest, and getting stabbed in the back—any one of which would be enough, but you managed to survive them all at once. It's a big adjustment, trying to recover. You're used to bouncing back a lot faster."

                He's not sure what to say. So he settles for "I'll think about it."

                Date gives him a pat on the back—not quite as gentle as he'd prefer, but he understands why. Date's known him long enough to know that being gentle isn't always going to get the job done with him. Sometimes, being firm is the only way to get through, as long as there's still kindness behind it.

                "I'll try," he promises this time.

 

~~~

 

                There's another reason he's at the Foundation so often, and it has to do with his discoveries in the kingdom eight-hundred years ago. The creation of the Core Medals may have created local extinctions of certain types of animals in that part of Thuringia, and this possibility from the past holds huge potential in trying to avert the same in the future. But because Eiji has no idea where to start, Kougami sets him up with the environmental sciences division the first chance he gets.

                At least this is something he can ask for help with. Eiji started traveling right after high school; he never went to college, so he feels like he's in way over his head. But the scientists at the Kougami Foundation come from all walks of life, and they explain everything he'll need to know.

                His mind swims with different species to have gone extinct in different areas, species reintroduced and thriving once more, and a joke from one of the scientists that because birds appear to be the descendents of feathered dinosaurs, then it may mean dinosaurs never really went extinct.

                He's officially added to the environmental sciences department by the time he's strong enough to walk almost all the time. But he hasn't given up on his work with the archeology department either, and as soon as he feels ready, he knows Kougami needs him to help catalogue some of the artifacts recovered from the castle—the new ones uncovered, the old ones he might recognize, and the gold the King had crowned him with just before attempting to sacrifice him to his desire. In that case, everyone tells him not to rush things and to take it at his own pace.

                This means he's on payroll for two different departments and he's getting two paychecks. This is new to him, to say the least. When he was able to travel, the Foundation covered his travel expenses and research, along with any necessary medical procedures, and what he had left was pocket change he felt more comfortable with. The times when he's not traveling, the money goes directly to him, and he has no idea what to do with it beyond his bills—he doesn't need much for himself, and what he does want in life isn't something he can just buy. Even if he has to save it for the future, the Foundation's retirement fund is far more generous than he would ever need, and he hopes to continue what he's doing for as long as he lives.

                But now there's another check coming in, and it's the same amount, and he has no idea what to do. To make matters more complicated, Chiyoko refuses to let him work in the restaurant for free, so once he's able to work, she'll be paying him too. It was easier when it was just that, and most of his money went to Ankh's expenses—and mainly ice pops, at that. No Ankh means his bills are far lower than before. No travel means he's getting the money directly. It's building up quickly, and he has no idea what to do with it.

                He figures the best person to ask is Chiyoko, since she best understands his ability and preference to live on very little. Date's spent too long trying to earn money for something important, Hina and Goto would try to talk him out of giving it away, and Shingo would try to convince him to save it for an emergency—even though right now _is_ the worst emergency he's gone through, and he doesn't need it and doesn't foresee any reason to need it. Asking Takuya is an option he doesn't even consider.

                She's setting up for a Hawaiian theme , and it's one of the few places he hasn't been but she has. He helps with the cooking while she tells him about it, and she's just finished telling him about a too-close encounter with a lava flow and the apologies she offered the goddess Pele when he decides to mention the money problem.

                "Eiji," she says gently. "I don't feel comfortable asking you to work for free."

                "That's not what I'm asking," he insists. "But I don't know what to do. There's no way I can spend all of this, and I can't think of any reason I'd need to save it."

                "Well, what would you like to do?" she asks.

                "I don't know," he admits, and she's probably the only person he can give that answer to. Everyone else gets worried when he says he doesn't know what he wants.

                His arms are beginning to shake from trying to mash taro. He doesn't argue when she takes over, giving him a chance to work out the cramps in his fingers and switch to stirring together coconut milk and starch for haupia. He'll get tired doing that too, but the change helps for now.

                "You used to go all over the world and try to do good for other people," she reminds him. "I don't think you don't know what you want to do."

                She's right. If he could, he'd use the money to help others.

                "But how?" he asks. The old fears are still there, the memories of people going hungry and being killed by weapons bought from the money meant to feed them. He realizes he's still scared to try.

                "I don't really know," she confesses. "Maybe you should talk to Mr. Kougami about it? He'd probably know about charities and how best to run one."

                It sounds like a step he's not sure he's ready for. Charity work is fine if it's small, but something this big? There's so much that can go wrong.

                But deep inside, he can still feel that dream. The desire to reach out and help everyone he can. To use whatever resources he has to make the world better.

                "I'll think about it," he promises, and he wonders if he'll ever stop thinking and ever start doing.

 

~~~

 

                His actual birthday comes a few days later. There's no big celebration—they already did that for him with his homecoming party, but Kougami sends a cake and Chiyoko makes a few dishes that had been too spicy for him to stomach before.

                He's just able to tend to a few tables, and he can at least manage the register, so despite Chiyoko's arguments that it's his birthday and he shouldn't have to work, he tries to do what he can until Takuya gets there.

                "Sorry I'm late," he apologizes, getting to work immediately. "Traffic was a disaster."

                "It's fine, don't worry," Chiyoko insists, handing him a tray of food and directing him to the right table.

                It's too busy for small talk, and sometimes, that's exactly what Eiji needs, especially when Takuya's around. But things finally settle down after a couple of hours, and Takuya makes his way over with a gift bag.

                "Heard it was your birthday," he says. "I know we don't know each other well, but I couldn't not get you something."

                The reasoning sounds like Eiji's own, so he isn't too confused when he takes it and answers, "Thanks," before taking out the gift. It's a sketch kit—pencils and charcoal, and a good pad of paper. For a minute, he wonders where Takuya got the idea from, but then he remembers the drawings of the village children among his notes and the calligraphy art of the girl he'd tried to save. Takuya had cleared out his room. Of course he would have seen the drawings.

                "I figured you could use them," he answers obliviously. "You're good. You really should keep it up."

                Eiji can't thank him. He doesn't know what to say at all. Takuya doesn't seem to know how to take it, but he doesn't seem to be offended as he heads off to take a customer's order.

                Part of him wants to throw it all away. Another part of him reminds him it's rude and there's no way Takuya could know he was triggering something. A third part of him finally resolves to hide the set in a drawer in his desk and never touch it. It's the only thing that makes sense.

 

~~~

 

                The hardest part of getting exhausted easily is he never knows just where or when he'll fall asleep. Frequently, it's been happening in Kougami's archives, to the point that someone's constantly sent to check on him when they haven't heard from him in a few hours. He's resting his head on his hand while reading a book when he suddenly hears Satonaka calling his name. He jumps, and a few of the books fall off the table.

                "The President sent me to check on you," she says calmly, handing him a piece of cake and some juice. "He figured you could use the sugar boost."

                "Thanks," he answers, taking the snack. He feels a little shaky—whether from waking up or from low blood sugar, he's not sure, but getting something to eat will help.

                Satonaka gets the books out of his way while he eats; only the fact that he'll probably collapse if he doesn't eat something right now is why anyone will let him eat in the archives anyway. "Studying more German?"

                He cringes. "I think? It was either that or an extinction event that may have been caused by a supernova." When she raises an eyebrow, he shrugs and admits, "I honestly can't remember what I just read. It all started to blur together after a while. And half of the background materials I've gone through are way too advanced for me to understand."

                "You know, you don't have to do all the research on your own," she points out. "You've got an entire team to do that for you."

                "I know, and plenty of professors and other professionals who already know what they're doing," he answers. "I'm still the one who has the question. Maybe it's selfish or egotistical of me, but..."

                "You lived through it," she says. "You've got a stake in it." And he nods. "Still doesn't mean you should do more than you have to."

                He finally smiles and admits, "That's pretty much who I am, though, right?" and she doesn't argue.

                He feels better after finishing the cake and juice, and he makes a mental note to bring a snack the next time he's there so he stands less of a chance of falling asleep in the middle of reading—or at the very least, of losing focus so thoroughly. Once he's feeling well enough to stand up, he puts away his research materials, and he packs up his German-Japanese dictionary when he remembers something.

                "Satonaka? You're fluent in German, right?"

                She nods. "Only one on staff here who is. You need a tutor?"

                He shrugs. "Maybe. I'm having a harder time with it than any of the other languages I learned, and I had to throw away half of the formal teaching I got in Arabic and had to piece it together from different dialects."

                "My services as a tutor don't come cheap," she warns.

                "Trust me, money's not a problem," he says dryly. He doesn't like the idea of using the money Chiyoko suggested he put toward a good cause, but if he just uses his money from the archeology department, supplemented with some of his paycheck from the restaurant if Satonaka charges that much, then even with his regular bills, he still has the money from environmental sciences that he hasn't touched.

                When he walks out of the building, he sees Takuya sitting outside, a dejected look on his face. The way he's holding himself says he's hurt—maybe not badly, but with whatever's upset him, it hurts more than his injuries should—and Eiji forgets for a moment that he's still a little angry with him.

                "Takuya?" he calls out.

                He looks up and gives him a smile he himself has given far too often—fake, trying to make the other person feel better. "Hey. Didn't know you worked here."

                "I do research," he answers. "Are you okay?"

                "Yeah," Takuya lies. "Was testing for a job here, but I didn't pass. Gonna be feeling it in the morning. Feeling it now, actually."

                Eiji's not sure what to say. Takuya isn't exactly his friend, but he's worried about him. He just doesn't know how to ask, not when he knows what it's like to not want other people to pry.

                "Anyway, I'll see you later," Takuya says.

                Eiji doesn't feel right leaving, but Takuya takes the choice out of his hands and walks away, going in a completely different direction. Eiji watches him as long as he can before he turns a corner and disappears, and he wonders if maybe, this was the moment he was supposed to do something instead of just thinking about it.

 

~~~

 

                It's Solaris this time, and even in his dreams, Eiji's ready for it. He thinks.

                It's a nightmare he's not surprised he's having; if anything, he's surprised he hasn't had it before. She has him strapped to an examination table in a lab somewhere—and his mind constructs Foundation X's lab as a combination of the interior of Kannagi's shuttle and the alchemists' lab in the dovecote. He's lying face down, and he can see a bottomless pit below him. There's no sign of Ankh here, and he's just as grateful as he is scared. Ankh can't be hurt here. But Eiji will be.

                Solaris takes her knife and plunges it into his back, deeper than he knows she really did. She was precise back then—she'd made sure not to puncture his internal organs, and she'd gone at enough of an angle that she had only damaged his muscles, but not permanently so. She'd done it to make him bleed.

                This time, it's for more than blood. She's digging into his body, and he's screaming for her to stop, but they're not in a position where she has to listen to him anymore. He sees machinery and magic alike—advanced medical technology combined with alchemical texts and solutions, all of it being poured into his wound, and he's bleeding quicksilver, dropping into the pit below.

                She throws him over onto his back, and he tries to hold her knife off of him before she can cut into him again. But over her shoulder is Gerhild, the woman who'd tried to rescue all of the village children from the King, who'd tried to help Eiji when he'd been captured and experimented on.

                He screams to her for help, but she doesn't move. He doesn't know why, but he thinks it's because at least if he's the one being experimented on, nobody else will be hurt. He knows she wouldn't have thought that was right, but when he wakes up, he's sweating and shaking all the same.

                Date's not sharing a room with him anymore; Eiji's recovered well enough that he doesn't need someone there with him all the time. But he needs someone to talk to, or he'll never be able to get this out of his mind.

                The clock on his phone says it's two in the morning. He hesitates for a moment. It's too early to call; Hina needs to sleep before school.

                They've told him it's okay to be selfish once in a while, and maybe this is the one time he can manage it. He calls her.

                "Hello?" she asks, her voice clearly tired.

                He regrets calling immediately and is about to hang up when she asks, "Hello? Eiji, is that you?"

                He finally finds his voice and answers, "Yeah. Sorry about waking you."

                "Is something wrong?"

                In his mind, it sounds stupid. It's a _dream_. Why can't he get over them?

                "Eiji?" she asks again, this time sounding more awake and definitely concerned. "Are you okay?"

                "Yeah," he says. "I'm fine. Sorry I woke you."

                He's about to hang up when she says, "Wait! Eiji, don't hang up," and his finger hovers over the tile.

                "You wouldn't have called me if something wasn't wrong," she says, and he finally brings the phone back up to his ear. "Was it a nightmare?"

                "Yeah," he breathes. "I've been having them lately. I didn't want to tell you."

                "Do you need me to come over?" she asks.

                "No," he answers, shaking his head. "I think I just needed to hear a friendly voice."

                "What happened?"

                He can still feel his back aching—not from the dream, but from the actual injury. The wounds on his back and chest are healing nicely, but they still hurt if he moves wrong.

                "Solaris," he answers at last. "She was cutting me open. I don't know for surgery or just because she could, but..."

                When he hesitates, he hears her ask, "Are you still there?"

                "I'm here," he insists. "But during the whole thing, Gerhild was there—the woman who helped us. She was just watching, like it was okay that Solaris was hurting me. As long as it wasn't anyone else."

                "Eiji," she says softly, and it sounds like she's close to tears, and he's sorry he's upset her all over again. "I may not have met her, but I'm sure she wouldn't do something like that. She helped save you. You asked her to bring the orange Medals to Japan, and she did, so they could help you defeat Gara centuries later."

                "I know," he says. "I'm sorry I..."

                "You don't need to be sorry for anything," she says. "This happened to _you_."

                "I know," he sighs. "I just want to be back to normal. I want to keep thinking it's the side effects of the chemicals the alchemists put into me, but I was having nightmares before that too. And by now, everything should be out of my system. I haven't had dreams this bad since..."

                He can't say it, but she knows. Since Africa, since the war. Since the first time he'd ever seen how human greed could destroy lives and when he'd lost all of his own desires, dreams, and ambitions along with it. He doesn't want to be empty like that ever again. But if he can't get a hold on everything, it might happen again.

                "I think I need to talk to Dr. Kunieda," he admits.

                "He'll know better," she assures him.

                "Yeah," he agrees.

                "Are you sure you don't want me to come over?"

                "I'll be okay for now," he promises, and this much, he can keep. "Thanks for listening."

                "You're welcome," she says. "Don't try to do this alone. We'll try to help as much as we can."

                "But..."

                "You're not putting a burden on us. We _want_ to help you, just like you want to help everyone you can. Even if it's not much, it's like you keep saying—maybe it's enough, sometimes, to go as far as your hand can reach."

                It means more than words can convey, and he can't find any to thank her. He can barely keep himself from crying.

                It's a relief when Hina understands and says, "Try to get some more sleep. Goodnight."

                That word he can manage. "Goodnight."

                He hangs up and lies down again. Even if he can't sleep, he feels a lot better than he did before. This time, maybe, he can make things a little better.

 

~~~

 

                It never really gets easier going to these sessions. Eiji's never sure what to say or how to say it. There's a small, tense fear holding tight to his heart, and he doesn't know how to approach it without it overwhelming him.

                He asks Date to go with him this time, if only to help keep him talking. They discuss his frustration with recovery and his problems with Takuya, and he feels a little better letting it out.

                "Well," Dr. Kunieda says, "you're doing a lot better now. Do you feel less frustrated with everything?"

                "Mostly," he admits. "But with Takuya..."

                "He's new," Date points out. "He doesn't know what sets you off, or what he should be doing."

                "Exactly," Dr. Kunieda agrees. "You may want to talk with him, if only to tell him that he's making things harder instead of easier."

                Eiji cringes at the suggestion, and Date says, "You're talking to the wrong person. Hino's bad at being direct with people."

                "You seem to do better with other people around," Dr. Kunieda admits. "If you want, we can set up a few group sessions."

                Eiji nods. "That's what I was hoping. I wanted to see if we could try this next time. With everybody, if they're available."

                He hasn't run this idea past Date, and he gives him a suspicious glance. "What haven't you been telling me?"

                It's there. The subject may as well be physical for how tangibly it holds Eiji, tightening his hands into fists and squeezing his lungs so he has to work twice as hard to breathe.

                "Eiji," Dr. Kunieda says with sympathy. "Is something wrong?"

                There's a term he's heard before, most recently from Solaris as she tried to dislocate his arm. It's something that on some level, he's always been afraid of, but at the same time, he needs to know.

                "What do you know about posttraumatic stress disorder?"

                It's a scary thing to name. Like breaking open a seal that should be left alone. He doesn't like the sound of it in his ears or the feel of it on his tongue. If words could have a taste, these would be bitter, salty. Lacrimal.

                Date sighs, but it's a sympathetic sigh. "That'd explain a lot."

                Dr. Kunieda looks at Date with understanding. "You're familiar with it?"

                "Only from observation," Date admits. "You see a lot of patients come in with dead looks in their eyes in some of the places I've worked."

                There's a glance in Eiji's direction, but he's looking directly at Dr. Kunieda, who softly explains, "It's an anxiety disorder that happens in some people who've survived a traumatizing event in their lives."

                "Like a war," he answers.

                "That," Dr. Kunieda admits, "or it could be a natural disaster, an attack, fighting—any number of things."

                "I've read up on some of the symptoms," Date admits. "Not my field of expertise, but it does sound a lot like what you have sometimes."

                Dr. Kunieda looks at Eiji for clarification, and he says, "It's not all the time. I can usually get by fine."

                "Not everyone experiences things in exactly the same way," Dr. Kunieda insists. "You may even have some kind of atypical version. It depends on your personality and your life experiences."

                "Hino," Date interrupts. "What do you think?"

                He shrugs. "I don't know."

                "If this is what it is," Dr. Kunieda says, "it doesn't mean that it's your fault. Any more than a physical illness would be. A diagnosis is a description of the symptoms you're experiencing so that we know how to treat it."

                "There are patients sometimes who argue when I diagnose them," Date adds. "Like just by giving their symptoms a name, I've given them that disease. They want to pretend it's not there—to them, naming it gives it an identity. That's not how medicine works."

                He nods. "I know. But..." It's still holding him tightly, and he finds Ankh's Medal in his pocket and clutches it. He's scared.

                "I think I would like to speak with your friends in a group session," Dr. Kunieda decides. "I'm going to try to help you. But you're going to need their help too, understand?"

                He nods again, knowing both doctors are watching him and silently assessing his coping mechanisms. He reminds himself it's a good thing—they can find what's helping and what isn't, and they'll help him through this.

                "I don't..." he starts, and he's not sure again where to go with that thought. But they wait without interrupting, and he runs his thumb over the crack in Ankh's Medal and finds the words. "I don't mind if I'm not back to the way I was before I met everyone. I'm actually happy with the person I've become. But I don't want to be tired all the time, or waking up from nightmares. I want to be excited about what I'm doing again."

                "That's why you're here," Date points out.

                "For now," Dr. Kunieda says, "I'm going to try you on some medication for anxiety—low doses, just enough to help with your nightmares a little. Just getting you to a point where you've got a full night of sleep with less disturbing dreams might do wonders for your mental state. After that..." He shrugs. "We'll figure out where everything else falls."

                Date gives Eiji another of his rough pats on the back, and he's grateful for the comfort. It tells him he doesn't have to say anything, when he's too caught up in the currents of fear and hope that are flooding his heart in equal portions, making him unable to speak. He has _something,_ but they're not ready to give it a name _._ He's not normal. But at the same time, there's a chance of finding "normal" for him again, or redefining it altogether.

                He's not so broken he can't put himself back together. It's just a matter now of figuring out where the pieces fit.

 

~~~

 

                If he's going to get anywhere, he needs to start here. When Takuya comes in for work later, Eiji meets him outside.

                Takuya looks at him, concerned. "Is everything okay?"

                "Yeah," Eiji answers. "I just wanted to apologize."

                "Apologize?" Takuya repeats, walking inside. "For what?"

                "I've...well..." Eiji stumbles for a bit, trying to figure out the words. To him, it's obvious. He hasn't been fair to him. It'd be easier if Takuya knew that already.

                "Look," Takuya says. "I understand. I'm the new guy. You come home after an accident overseas, and suddenly, there's this guy who takes over your job, gets along great with your coworkers, moves all the stuff out of your room..."

                Eiji cringes. "Sorry if I've been hard on you about that."

                "It's okay," Takuya insists. "Hina told me about Ankh."

                Eiji looks at him in surprise. Takuya's apologetic; his entire body is sagging with regret.

                "I should have asked before I started moving everything out on you," he admits. "Bad enough I look like I'm replacing you, but now I'm replacing someone you guys loved..."

                "It's okay," he finds himself saying. "You didn't know. And you thought you were helping."

                "Yeah, it's just..." Takuya sighs. "Seems like every time I try to do something right, I only make a bigger mess of it."

                Eiji smiles. "Join the club."

                There's a guilty look on Takuya's face, and he says, "Yeah, about that?" He holds out his phone, bringing up an encyclopedia page. "I ended up doing some research, and, well..."

                The page is on him. There's not much information—just what happened in Africa, or what the media heard had happened, at the very least. No pictures. Above the article is a suggestion that the page be merged into a page on his father.

                "How..." he starts. "How long did you know?"

                Takuya shrugs. "I heard a lot of stories about you from Chiyoko and Hina. They said you survived a war a few years ago. Got curious and looked it up, found a guy with the same name who'd gotten caught up in the same thing at the same time, except it turns out he was part of a family of politicians. I figured if they didn't talk about that part of you, you had reasons not to want it getting out."

                He nods. "That's pretty much the entire thing. There's a lot more to it, but..."

                "But it's none of my business, or anybody else's," he agrees. "I get it. There's nothing cool about getting caught up in something like that. It's painful, and nobody can understand that."

                Eiji stares at him for a moment. For a moment, it sounds like Takuya _does_ understand, but how?

                "The minute I saw this, I tried to figure out ways of getting it down," Takuya explains. "I figured, whatever happened to you, you deserve your privacy."

                It takes him a minute before he can say, "Thank you."

                Takuya smiles and puts his phone away. "No problem. It's under review, and given nobody's heard anything from you in years, chances are it's just going to disappear into trivia under your dad's page. But I thought you should know."

                They're quiet for a moment, and Eiji's grateful for it. Takuya really has helped this time, and it's clear he's relieved he's done it right for a change. He'll keep Eiji's secret—he's someone who can be trusted. Maybe one day, Eiji can tell him the rest.

                "Anyway," Takuya interrupts, "we should probably get to work before Chiyoko starts worrying." He grabs a pair of goggles from his pocket and puts them on. "Underwater theme, right?"

                Eiji grins. "Atlantis. I think Hina's already got the costumes."

                "I like being prepared," Takuya says. "You should have seen our Medieval Fair while you were away. I had the _best_ knight costume."

                He's not ready to talk about it with him yet, not with the level of secrecy the Foundation insists he maintain. So he only replies, "I think I saw enough knights back in Germany with all the archeology."

                Takuya accepts it, only nodding and claiming, "Your loss."

                He's not as bad as Eiji first thought, now that he's gotten past those problematic attempts to help. After being the one to mess up and hurt others, now he's on the other side. It's easier to understand.

                Takuya's not afraid to keep trying, and it helps Eiji start feeling more comfortable with trying himself. He can reach his hand out again, and maybe this time, he'll be able to grasp someone else's and be able to help them.

 

~~~

 

                In retrospect, it doesn't take a lot to apologize to Takuya. But it takes days for Eiji to build up the courage to go up to Hina after she gets out of school to ask her a favor.

                She's talking with some of her friends, insisting, "I don't know if I'm ready yet."

                He thinks for a moment that she's talking about graduation, especially when one of her friends answers, "You better hurry. It'll be here before you know it."

                "I know," she answers, not yet seeing Eiji. "But there's still somebody I haven't told, and..."

                She stops suddenly when she sees him, and he knows immediately that she was talking about him.

                "Eiji," she says, as if it's not a surprise he interrupted her.

                He doesn't want to upset her, so he smiles and says, "Hi, Hina. I wanted to ask you a favor."

                Another of her friends touches her shoulder gently to get her attention. "We'll see you later." She nods, and they leave.

                "What do you need?" she asks.

                "I wanted to know..." he starts, and he finds it almost impossible to ask.

                "Eiji," she says gently, and she moves to take his hand. "What you just heard..." And it seems just as hard for her to finish what she's saying as it is for him.

                "Hina," he insists, "you can tell me anything. If you need help, just let me know. I'll do whatever you need."

                She smiles, but at the same time, she looks so sad that he can't help but wonder what can possibly be so wrong and how can he fix it? "Eiji, it's nothing bad. But I wasn't sure how you'd take it. Before you came home, I learned I got that offer from the atelier again."

                "In Paris?" he asks, and she nods. "That's great!"

                She nods again. "I'm really excited, but it'll be after graduation. I'll be leaving." And in that moment, he understands why she didn't tell him. "But with you so hurt, I couldn't..."

                "It's okay," he insists, smiling. "It's your dream, right? I wouldn't want you to give it up because you were worried about me."

                She smiles back. "I should have known you'd say that." But her expression turns serious for a moment, and she adds, "But if you're just going to pretend you're okay, the way you've been doing, then I won't go. I'm not going to let you stay here and suffer all that time. I have to _know_ you're going to be okay here, and that you'll ask for help when you need it."

                It's almost a cruel ultimatum. They both know he could never live with the guilt if she gives up her dreams for him. To be honest, the warning sounds like something he might say.

                "I need a favor," he finally admits. "Everything we've recovered from the castle is in Kougami's archive. They haven't been asking, since they know how I've been, but because I was there, they need me to identify it."

                She hugs him, understanding immediately. He can't do it alone. Kougami and Satonaka will be there. But the King is there too, in every artifact Eiji recognizes. Eiji himself is there, in the pieces of history he touched back then.

                "I'll help you," she promises, and he's able to make his way to the Foundation.

                As always, there's cake in Kougami's office, and Satonaka's halfway through a large slice when they arrive. The moment she sees Hina, she ushers her over and offers a piece. Eiji walks up to Kougami's desk, with all intent of asking to go down to the archive before he loses his nerve.

                Instead, he finds himself asking, "What do you know about running a charity?"

                The question takes everyone off-guard, most of all himself. But it's out in the open, and he can't take it back.

                "I..." he starts. "There's.... Well, I haven't touched most of my paychecks, and..."

                Kougami stops him before he can get himself too worked up. "Eiji. I've been asked not to pressure you too much if you feel hesitant toward something. You have been forced to do too much that you never wanted—most recently, my ancestor trying to sacrifice you for his own desire. Is this something you truly want?"

                It's all this tight ball of anxiety in his chest, but he forces himself to breathe through it.

                "Yes," he finally answers. "But not yet. There's still so much I want to do with research and trying to save Ankh, and I don't want to get so caught up in something new that I can't put the kind of work into them that I need to. And to be honest, I'm a little scared."

                Kougami nods. "That's understandable, considering what happened to you a few years ago."

                It's not quite what Eiji expects him to say, and it occurs to him just how unusually patient Kougami's been with him lately, beyond even what Dr. Kunieda could have asked of him. Everyone in general has been remarkably careful with him—not like they're afraid of upsetting him, but more like they're waiting for him to be ready. Watching and waiting to see how much he can handle.

                "I know," he admits. "And I have to admit, I really don't have any idea more now what I'm doing than I did then. So until I do, I don't want to act on this. But I want to start learning as much as I can."

                There's what looks like a smile on Kougami's face, and Eiji feels like he said the right thing.

                "But first," he continues, because while he's testing his courage, he might as well go for broke, "I think I'm ready to catalogue some of the OOO archive."

                A knock at the door interrupts them, and Satonaka gets up to check. When she sees who's at the door, she turns to Kougami and says, "Your 4:00 is here early."

                Kougami nods seriously. "Unfortunately, that might need to wait for another time. I have an appointment with someone who's been seeking a job with the Ride Vendor platoon."

                He almost feels disappointed, especially after he's dragged Hina all the way here. But still, it's not something any of them could have predicted—an appointment got pushed up suddenly.

                "That's okay," he answers, and he believes it.

                "Maybe we can come back again with Dr. Kunieda," Hina suggests, taking his hand. "He'd probably want to see you when you have to face everything."

                It's a good idea, and Eiji nods. Agreeing, Kougami decides, "Wonderful! Then we'll set up that group session in the archive, if you feel comfortable with it?"

                Eiji manages to smile. "Actually, it's probably better if I have as many people as possible with me down there."

                They make their way to the door just as Satonaka brings in the applicant. But the moment they see each other, they stop in their tracks.

                "Takuya?" Eiji asks. "You're applying here?"

                "Eiji?" he asks, looking between him and Kougami. "I thought... When you said you did research, I thought you meant you were a research assistant."

                "Eiji's heading up a major project in Germany," Hina explains. "He and Kougami have known each other for a while."

                Takuya looks like someone just hit him with a truck. Eiji realizes he needs to do something to fix this, and before anyone can stop him, he grabs Takuya by the arm and drags him out into the hall, with Hina following closely behind.

                "I can't believe it," Takuya mutters. "They know you by name, you're friends with the president..."

                "I'm sorry," Eiji admits.

                "For what?" Takuya asks.

                Eiji can't answer. He doesn't know. It's just become an instinctive reaction for him lately, something to say when he's not sure what can fill the void.

                Takuya sinks to the floor. "I'm such an idiot."

                "There's no reason you should have known," Eiji admits, sitting next to him. "I kind of try to keep my head down."

                "Eiji's like that," Hina agrees, sitting on his other side. "He'll talk about people he's met and things he's seen, but he doesn't always like to talk about himself."

                "Still," Takuya sighs, "I should have realized it when you came out of the building that day."

                Hina looks at them in surprise, but Eiji asks, "Is that what you were doing? Applying?"

                "Interviewing," he explains. "And I blew it. Basic training. Failed half the course, got thrown into a wall, and when they asked me why I wanted to put myself through this, I guess I didn't give them the right answer."

                "We have a friend who used to be on the platoon," Hina says, trying to reassure him. "It's hard, and he didn't always agree with what he was doing. He ended up quitting."

                "What did you tell them?" Eiji asks.

                He shrugs. "Honestly, I told them that I didn't really want to fight if I had to. But if it was what I needed to do if there was emergency, then I'd do it."

                Hearing his own reasoning come out of someone else's mouth puts it into perspective how flawed it is, and he admits, "I know how you feel. But I also know that you can't do that to yourself, or you're not going to be able to help anyone else."

                "It's something Eiji's been struggling with for a little while now," Hina adds.

                Takuya looks at them in surprise this time. "Were you on the squad?"

                "No, not exactly," he answers with a smile. "But I know that kind of situation well. To be honest, if I could, I'd be a pacifist. I hate war. I don't like having to fight. But I'm not the kind of person who can stand by and watch other people be hurt if I can do something about it. I had to watch once before, and it hurt like nothing else—I can't even begin to describe it."

                "I can't fight, myself," Hina admits sheepishly. "Even with all my strength, I can't do anything with it. But just like Eiji fights because it's the only way he knows how to reach out and help someone, I try to do what I can to help too. Just in a different way."

                "Exactly," he agrees. " _Why_ do you want this? Why keep applying, when you've been turned down every time? You've got to have a reason beyond that."

                Takuya watches them a moment, evaluating, before sighing, "You are going to think this is the stupidest thing in the world." They simply give him sympathetic smiles in response; they've lived through far stranger. "Okay. So, when I was a kid—maybe about ten or eleven—I had this dream."

                He waits, as if for them to start laughing. When they don't, he continues, "There were these...warriors, I guess. And they were watching over me. But I decided they were cool and I wanted to do what they did—fighting monsters, stuff like that. So I stole...I guess it was the weapon, from one of them, and ran off."

                Still no laughter. They take this as seriously as anything else, dream or not. "So they caught up to me, but instead of making me give it back, one of the warriors had me watch him fight. And when I did, I saw how painful it was for him. He was strong, but he was losing. The monsters he fought were too powerful, and he even had to fight against other warriors just like him, and it all seemed wrong. So the warrior I stole from—he didn't even ask me for his weapon back. He just told me how awful fighting was and made me promise not to fight anyone ever again. But at the same time, he had to go into battle to help his friend, because that was more important."

                They're still silent. The story sounds familiar and unfamiliar all at once—something that could so easily be applied to their lives, but it's a dream from someone who's never heard of a Kamen Rider before, so it can only be an amazing coincidence.

                "I promised," Takuya admits. "And even though it was a dream, I held to it. Even got myself in trouble at school, when I'd try to break up fights and only get myself in more trouble because the other kids would gang up on me."

                "So you'd be willing to fight because of that warrior?" Hina guesses. "The one who saved his friend?"

                Takuya sighs again. "You know, I want to say yes, but that's not really it. It's the other one—the one who went in to show me. He was hurt, he was losing, he had to fight someone he really should have been friends with, and he wanted me to see how awful a life he had. But I've always wondered—what would make him do that? What's the reason he'd put himself through that much pain? What could he value so much more than himself? And I guess, more than anything, that's what I want to find out about myself. If I have that kind of desire."

                "Something big enough to fight for," Eiji repeats with a smile. "You know, I'd have gone with that answer."

                Takuya laughs humorlessly. "Not like I'm going to have much of a chance. I think I've pretty much used up every one I've got."

                "Not necessarily," Eiji promises, gesturing at the door as a reminder that they have powerful friends. They _are_ powerful friends. "Kougami's impressed by desire. It doesn't matter whether it's from a dream or not. Tell him what you told us. He'll listen."

                "You think?" he asks.

                "We've both come close to losing our dreams because something scared us off," Hina warns. "For me, it was my brother. For Eiji, it was his past. Don't make the same mistake."

                Takuya wavers for a moment before standing up. "Okay. I'll give it a shot. Thanks."

                "You're welcome," Eiji says, as Hina nods.

                "But if I get my ass kicked for trying to stop a fight," Takuya warns, "I know who I'm coming after."

                For the first time, Eiji feels tempted to laugh about his tragedy. And he answers, "It can't be worse than what I've gone through."

                Takuya's in just as much shock as he is, and he mutters, "Are you really going to try to one-up me on this?"

                Eiji shrugs, grinning. It's not that what he went through is funny—it's awful. And Takuya having to face down ridicule for half of his life because he decided to believe in a dream—that's heartbreaking. But maybe it's because they've been through such horrible experiences that things like this are almost laughably easy. And it's comforting.

                Takuya opens the door and walks in to take his second chance. Eiji stands up and smiles at Hina, and he finally feels ready to take his own chances. She smiles back at him and takes his hand, and he knows that if he thinks it's okay, then she's going to trust him. And it's a wonderful feeling.

 

~~~

 

                The King is there again, but this time, he has his alchemists, and Eiji is alone. This time, the King attacks him, cutting into him with the Medajalibur as the alchemists pour impossible amounts of elixir from the red glass goblets, liquefying the ground. Eiji slips and falls, and the King grabs him by the throat.

                "You could have been a god!" he shouts. "You could have been King, but you gave it up! And for what?"

                Eiji tries to answer, tries to keep the King's hands away from his neck, but the King is forcing his head below the sea of elixir. He can almost feel the Medals forming inside him again, and he moves his hands down, clutching his chest as if trying to claw them out of himself.

                "You can't even say you gave it up for humanity," the King says. "You had humanity, all of it, and you threw it away. For what?"

                Eiji finally thinks he has an answer, and as he sinks into the ocean, he replies, "Myself."

                The King lets go of him, and he falls. As he looks up through the red haze of elixir, he sees Ankh standing on the surface where the King had been, so he reaches for him.

                He can't reach his hand this time, and he falls deeper.

                He's falling through air this time, plummeting the same way he had after defeating Maki. But this time, he knows he has too much that he wants to live for, and he has to do something to save himself. He reaches for that power within himself, and white-gold light bursts from his back, taking the form of wings that slow his descent.

                They're still on his back when he somehow lands himself in Cous Coussier, with everyone staring at him. He can read the looks of horror on their faces, and he doesn't know what to say. Hina walks up to him, and he tries to stammer out an explanation.

                Her arms go around him, and it takes him a moment to realize he really doesn't have any wings, that he's dreaming and still half-asleep from the medication, and that he can't get up because Hina really is on top of him and hugging him, and he has no idea how that happened.

                As he slowly begins to wake up, he remembers why he's there and how this happened—it was the night before the therapy session in the archives, and he'd been so nervous about it that Hina and Shingo invited him over for the night just so he'd have company. He'd settled for studying a little more for his research project while she worked on a few designs for her portfolio, and they must have fallen asleep because their things are still on the floor next to the couch. He's not sure exactly how or when she snuggled up to him in her sleep, but it came at just the right time.

                The question now is how is he going to get out? He looks around and finds Shingo, looking entirely too amused, but he comes over and helps untangle his sister's arms from Eiji. He gets up less than gracefully, and Shingo has to move quickly before he stumbles and falls. He doesn't try to argue—he's still tired, and his legs have definitely fallen asleep—and he lets Shingo help him over to the table to sit.

                It's still taking him a while to wake up, so Shingo asks, "Do you want coffee? Or can you not have it because of the medicine?"

                Eiji shakes his head. "I'll be okay. Maybe just a little bit right now—I got pretty worked up the other day."

                Shingo nods as he heads to the kitchen. "Are you ready for everything?"

                There's something about Shingo that makes it harder to lie to him, even just to keep him from worrying. It's not that he reminds Eiji of Ankh too much—there's more than enough difference between them that it rarely crosses his mind. But every so often, when he thinks Eiji's holding something back, he gives him a look, and it's like Ankh is still there—a piercing gaze, an expression that says, "I've watched over you all this time; don't even try to lie to me," and Eiji finds himself more honest than he'd usually be.

                So he shrugs. "I don't know. But if I don't try now, I don't think I'll ever be able to face it."

                It's the day that'll confirm everything—the interviews with his friends that will make his diagnosis official, and the trip to the archives to identify everything and observe his behavior for just such a diagnosis.

                "You're scared," Shingo notices.

                He nods. "Date said that giving it a name can be scary, and he's right. But I feel like it's had a name this whole time."

                Shingo looks confused, but he can't quite explain it, shrugging helplessly. "It" has had an identity for the past couple of months, before he even asked about PTSD. "It" has been the King, and the King has always been stronger than him and more terrible than an illness.

                Maybe it's not the dissociation Eiji needs after all. He can't stand the thought that he and the King share anything in common, be it their powers or interests. It scares him to think that one day, a man not too different from himself let his desire get in the way of everyone and everything else, and he hurt everyone in his way to becoming a god. That he saw a young traveler—if not innocent, then certainly more idealistic—and decided to kill everything that made him who he was in order to distill from him the essence of humanity. And that when the idealist wouldn't cooperate, he would threaten innocent people to coerce him.

                It makes him sick to think that maybe, that could happen to him one day, no matter how much he's ensured he keeps his desire under control. He can't accept the King as part of himself, a terrible possibility should he lose sight of the reasons behind what he wants. But if whatever this "it" is that has been tearing at him for years is keeping him from becoming like the King, then he can accept "it." The memories and emotions "it" triggers for him can keep him from losing control of his desire, just as much as his friends help him control the void.

                "I..." he tries, but he still can't completely put this into words. The closest he can manage is "It's like the artifacts. It was one thing when the only connection I had to everything was being OOO and knowing what Ankh told me about the King. But now that I actually went through it myself...I understand why Ankh never liked talking about him."

                "You're part of that history," Shingo agrees, handing him half a cup of coffee and a plate of food.

                Eiji half-shrugs. "More like it's part of _me._ "

                The subject is a little too uncomfortable now, and Shingo sets down his own food and says, "Sorry if it's not as good as something Hina would make, but I'm not about to wake her up and then ask her to make breakfast. I'm a good big brother like that."

                Now, Eiji has to smile. "Right. And Hina probably being stronger than OOO doesn't have anything to do with that."

                "Of course not," Shingo replies easily. "Sorry about her clinging to you, though."

                "It's okay," he insists. "I know it was an accident, and she didn't hurt me or anything."

                "Still, it might not be a good idea to mention it to her when she wakes up," Shingo warns.

                "You think she'll be embarrassed?" he asks, and Shingo nods. "Why?"

                Instead of a straight answer, Shingo gives him a flat look—not quite the expression Ankh would have given him for asking the same question, but close enough that Eiji knows he's just said something incredibly stupid.

                "I know you're not as dumb as Ankh always said you were," he answers. "But sometimes, I wonder if maybe you've convinced yourself you are, if only because it keeps you safe."

                Eiji looks at him in confusion, then follows his gaze over toward where Hina's sleeping. It had been an accident that she hugged him in her sleep. But then, it made perfect sense in his dream that she'd try to do that. When he came home ahead of schedule, she rushed to finish the costumes for his birthday party and made sure he had one specially tailored to his preferred clothing style. She was willing to listen to him in the early hours of the morning when he had a nightmare. She wouldn't commit to her trip to Paris until she knew he would be okay without her. And that's only the past few months—she's been there for him from practically the moment they met, always reaching out for him—not for comfort, but to help.

                The pieces finally fall together, and he doesn't know if Shingo sees the way his face falls when he realizes he's missed these signs all of these years. It's something he's never considered himself—the thought is as foreign a language to him as German, and harder to understand.

                He doesn't try to name it. If he does, it will have an identity and more power than he's ready for.

                Hina starts to wake up, and he quickly switches to the incomplete smile he's given her all this time, and she doesn't suspect a thing.

                "Good morning," he says.

                "Morning," she yawns back.

                "She's not a morning person," Shingo explains, and Hina shoots him a sleepy glare while Eiji laughs.

                "What time do we need to be there?" she asks as she makes her way to the kitchen.

                "Not for a few hours," Eiji insists. "They don't want me to be the first one down there."

                She nods as she puts together her breakfast. It occurs to him that this is going to be an incredibly long few hours if he doesn't find a way out of the awkwardness fast.

                Almost as if apologizing for setting off the awkwardness in the first place, Shingo says, "I never asked—were they able to get anything off your phone?"

                Eiji shakes his head. "Nothing usable, at least. I tried to take some photos of the people and artifacts we couldn't recover, but all that damage ruined everything."

                His phone had gone through the wringer during his accidental time travel—first taking a beating in battle with Solaris, then soaked when the King set him in a rushed bath before the so-called coronation, and finally the energy from the alchemical reaction had taken care of the rest. Recovering any data was a long shot.

                Hina comes over with her breakfast and softly asks, "Do you miss any of it?"

                He gives her a puzzled look. This time, he hopes it's okay for him to misunderstand. "What, the pictures?"

                "No, I mean the knowledge," she admits hesitantly. "With everything you've been struggling through lately, I wasn't sure if maybe part of the reason you've been frustrated is because everything came so naturally to you for a while."

                It's an uncomfortable question, worse than his fears about the King, worse than what he'd had to consider about her feelings, and he's acutely aware that Shingo is _watching_ him, waiting for him to try to lie to them, lie to himself.

                "Honestly?" he answers. "No. I might miss speaking every language that's ever existed, but I don't miss the way my thoughts jumped from one language to another, until I wasn't sure if I even understood what I was saying or writing anymore. I don't miss understanding the implications behind what the alchemists did with all of their experiments. And I _definitely_ don't miss the King trying to use me."

                Shingo nods sympathetically, and Eiji realizes that he understands those scars—he's had them in his mind with Ankh. "No one should ever try to use you for their own goals."

                "It's not even like that's the worst part of it," he admits. "The King never saw me as a person—he only saw me as the future OOO, as something he could use to become more powerful. Solaris saw me as a specimen, and I don't know what Gerhild or the villagers saw me as, other than someone they didn't trust, at least not completely." He feels cold suddenly, and the symbolism of far too many nightmares rears its head again: "I think the kids saw me as the only thing that could save them. A guardian angel."

                Beside him, Hina hesitates, and he knows now that her first instinct is to hug him, and she's trying so hard to fight it because she's afraid it'll bother him. She takes his hand instead—because that's what he needs, what he's always needed—and he's able to take another breath.

                "I was starting to feel it myself," he admits. "I was losing myself in different languages, I had nightmares, I was drawing the children and telling their stories, but I was afraid I was forgetting my own. I didn't know enough of what was going on, but I knew that the reason the King wouldn't call me by name or admit I was a person—not some angel or god or king—was because the more he could take that away from me, the more he could make me lose my identity, the easier it would be for me to lose myself to the power. And let him become a god."

                Hina's hand tightens around his, just enough that it's almost beginning to hurt, but it's still less than what he's felt for months inside him. For a moment, he thinks that maybe he would have preferred the hug she'd restrained herself from.

                "I just want to be _me_ ," he says quietly. "And for a while, even after coming home, I wasn't sure if I could anymore."

                There are no lies, no comforting platitudes that he is the same person he was a few months ago. They all know that if he was, he wouldn't be struggling so much right now. There is only the stark, honest silence, and he has to appreciate it.

                This time, Hina does hug him. She doesn't say it out loud, but the message is clear: Today is the biggest step toward you returning to normal. And it's something he has to believe in.

 

~~~

 

                They leave after breakfast. Shingo drives them, and Hina sits next to Eiji in the back, holding his hand. He tries to remember exactly what it was Ankh had told him when he died—was it that Eiji didn't need to reach for his hand anymore, or was it that he needed to reach for someone other than Ankh now?

                The distinction is subtle, but maybe it's not important. Whatever he said isn't as important as what he meant. He wanted Eiji to be able to accept help, the same way he offered it. And for a moment, he's able to leave Ankh's Medal alone and to hold the hand that's still here.

                Kougami and Satonaka, of course, are already there by the time they arrive. They wait for everyone else to get there—Goto, Date, Chiyoko, Dr. Kunieda—before heading down to the archive.

                Just as she's about to open the door, Satonaka stops and thinks of something. She turns around and warns Eiji, "The first thing you're going to see is the armor you brought back."

                There's a moment of surprise, especially from those who know her best. This is unusually direct for her, considering how often she insists she won't do something without being paid for it, how uninterested she seems about everything, how whenever she does offer unsolicited help, she acts like she isn't actually trying to help, but that it just turns out that way.

                Eiji nods and takes a breath as the door opens. It's not right in front of him, but in direct line of sight across the room—a yellow gold crown, white gold gauntlets, and rose gold greaves. In some ways, it's the most frightening, but it's also the easiest. This is his—something he never wanted, never asked for, but a burden he had to carry all the same.

                The crown first. He picks it up and almost drops it. Goto is there in a flash, helping steady his hands as he sets it back on display.

                "Are you okay?" he checks.

                "Yeah," Eiji answers, surprised. "I didn't expect it to be that heavy."

                "It's solid gold," Satonaka explains. "Because it was ceremonial, it didn't need to be comfortable."

                That's another layer of disturbing on top of what he already knew, and he admits, "I didn't notice before. I thought it was just because of the experiment that I was too weak to lift my head." Solaris had held him when he started vomiting again, and he'd only just been able to stand to transform. Only the fact that it had been designed to fit snugly on his forehead had probably kept it from falling off of him in the escape.

                "If you don't mind," Dr. Kunieda says, "I'd like to start."

                "I want to keep looking," Eiji insists. "If it's okay."

                Dr. Kunieda pauses and looks at Kougami for a moment. The both of them come to a silent agreement, and Dr. Kunieda answers, "All right. I will be asking you a few things too, though."

                Eiji nods. "That's fine."

                "All right then," Dr. Kunieda agrees.

                Methodically, he moves onto the gauntlets as they start talking, and he's always aware of how they watch him. The right gauntlet is partially crushed at the wrist—the already soft metal weakened by the heat of Ankh's revival, then easily deformed. Any hint of scorching has been carefully cleaned off, but there's evidence that it was cut off of him while he was unconscious, and it gives him pause. In all this time, he's never considered how his rescuers had to remove everything from him—he'd bled enough that they would have had to have thrown away the clothes he'd worn, and if the armor was too hard to remove, of course they'd have to cut it.

                There's nothing to look at with the greaves, and for all they were less problematic than the heavy crown (the weight of a King) or the burned and crushed gauntlets (the fragile power of a Noble), in some ways, they seem more like his symbol—the enduring Vagabond. Constantly traveling, nowhere to call home, nothing to his name.

                Except now, he did—a home, a family, a place and a purpose that he loved.

                They're talking about detachment, numbness, avoidance. Chiyoko mentions his temporary aversion to travel during the first year—a passion only rekindled after losing Ankh and finding his desire once more. Hina mentions his empty smiles and distant words, the way he tries to pretend nothing's wrong because he doesn't want to worry them.

                It's worrying them now, enough that Goto walks over as he struggles at a display case.

                "Hino?" he asks, his voice more sympathetic and patient than he's heard in a while. "Do you need a break?"

                "I don't know," he admits, examining tapestry fragments he can't make out. "Some of these are too damaged to figure out."

                Now, Goto's starting to sound impatient as he argues, "That's not what I meant."

                The weave on one of the fragments seems completely foreign compared to the rest. It's thicker too, and just overall doesn't seem like it belongs.

                "Hina?" he asks. "What do you know about fabric?"

                Confused, she walks over. "What do you mean?"

                "Just...look," he says, pointing. "This piece compared to those."

                She leans over the display, and Satonaka comes over with a magnifying glass. She looks closely for a few minutes, then looks up at him.

                "They're not from the same cloth," she confirms, handing him the magnifying glass. "They're woven completely differently—one's designed to show a picture, so it hides the threads it's running across. On the other, you can see the threads running across, along with the up and down."

                Eiji nods and hands Satonaka back the magnifying glass. "Thanks."

                "You recognize it?" Goto guesses.

                He nods again. "I think it's from my shawl."

                It's undeniable proof that he was there, that it happened, that he'd met his predecessor and had almost been killed by him. That he really had gone back in time and affected the timeline.

                "I think I need that break," he admits finally.

                They walk with him back over to the doctor and give him a moment to sit down and breathe. He's not shaking at least, but Hina's holding his hand steadily anyway, and it helps ground him.

                "You need to step outside?" Date checks.

                He shakes his head. "If I do, I don't think I'll be able to come back in."

                "I'm sorry," Kougami apologizes. "I didn't realize that some of your lost clothing might be among the artifacts."

                Eiji shakes his head again. "It's not your fault. I didn't even remember losing it. I was so sick toward the end that I didn't think about it." Another couple of breaths, and he's able to ask, "Did you find any red glass?"

                "Not yet," Kougami answers. "If we do, we'll try to identify it from your notes, instead of in person."

                He nods this time. He's not sure he'll be able to stand looking at any fragments from the goblets he'd been poisoned with. Not yet, at least.

                "I notice that you try to keep in control of yourself as much as you can," Dr. Kunieda notices. "It seems to be frustrating you that you can't control quite as much as you could before."

                Slowly, he admits, "I've lost control before, with the purple Medals. I was so empty that they were able to change me. I..." And suddenly he realizes he's never told Hina or Chiyoko this; Date and Goto saw him, Kougami knew, Ankh knew. Hina probably knew, but he never let her see.

                "I became a Greeed," he says. "More than once. I was always able to change back, either because I calmed down or I was too tired to stay that way or because I was stronger as OOO. But I know what I can become if I do lose control again. And that's just if I'm empty. Now that I know what it is I want, I could become something like the King. Or worse."

                Hina's hand tightens around his. She doesn't try to reassure him any other way; this is his therapy, and he has to voice his fears if he's going to heal.

                "I know the only way I can prevent that either way is to open up," he admits. "Share my burden. I'm trying. But it's hard asking someone else to take on what I know is painful."

                "But if you don't tell us, then we can't understand," Chiyoko points out, and he knows she's not just talking about this problem or his frustration with recovery or the way he'd been silently blaming Takuya for things he couldn't possibly understand. "When Hina told me everything you'd gone through, I did everything I could to try to help her. She wanted to help you, she wanted to help Shingo, and she wanted to help Ankh. She didn't see how she could do any of it."

                Eiji looks at Hina in surprise; this is the first he's heard of it. She smiles softly and ducks her head.

                "I don't know how much I was able to help," Chiyoko insists. "But you're still here. Shingo's here. And one day, Ankh will be too. The more people you have who can help you shoulder this burden, the less it will be on everyone."

                "Well said," Dr. Kunieda admits.

                "I'm the same way," Shingo agrees. "I know I can't replace Ankh, and I don't want to. But I know what it's like to have to watch someone suffer and be unable to help."

                "I'm sorry," Eiji whispers, and it's not to fill the void this time. He's never considered that maybe, Shingo's always shared a similar burden. Maybe not exactly the same, but the scars are similar.

                "It's all right if you tell us you're upset," Shingo insists, in that way that's so completely different from Ankh and so similar to Hina that it hurts. "All this time I've known you, and I don't think I've ever even seen you angry."

                "There was the one time," Eiji says carelessly. "With Maki?"

                "When?" Shingo looks at him like he has no idea what he's talking about. Eiji realizes suddenly that he doesn't.

                "No, sorry," he admits. "I forgot—Ankh was separated from you at the time..."

                "It's okay," Shingo says quickly. "I know it gets confusing trying to keep track of whether or not I was actually there."

                "When was this?" Dr. Kunieda asks.

                Eiji shakes his head. It's not a pleasant memory. "There was a researcher in his lab, who was planting bombs."

                "I remember," Hina says. "You were really upset about that—you weren't yourself."

                "How so?" Dr. Kunieda asks.

                "He was tense," she explains. "And distracted. It was hard to get him to focus."

                They look at Eiji expectantly, and he admits, "It reminded me of what happened in Africa. I kept seeing it all over again, felt like I was still there. The only things that really snapped me out of it were reminders that I needed to stop it again."

                "So flashbacks?" Dr. Kunieda clarifies, and Eiji nods. "And difficulty concentrating—is this normal for you?"

                "I'm not sure," he admits.

                "You are kind of spacey, at times," Goto points out. And there are way too many looks of agreement on the others' faces. "But that might be your personality."

                Eiji's not entirely sure how to respond to that, and while he tries to figure it out, Date points out, "But you put him under pressure, and yeah. You know right away he went through something. You can see the tenseness all over his body, even when he's transformed." Looking at him directly, he points out, "You were like that when you first woke up in the hospital too. You were looking all over the place until you realized where you were."

                He nods. "I remember that. I thought for a minute that Foundation X had me. It wasn't until I saw you and you said I was safe that I could relax again." And fall asleep, at that, when he was already barely conscious.

                "What about that moment when you got angry?" Dr. Kunieda asks, gently redirecting the conversation back to the original topic. "What happened?"

                It takes a moment for him to steel himself before he explains, "Maki knew about the bombs. He was observing the researcher, since there were a lot of Yummies being formed from him, and it was an unusual desire. There'd already been a few explosions, and I'd just disconnected the rest of the bombs..."

                He's getting worked up just talking about it, and Dr. Kunieda soothingly says, "You were scared."

                He shakes his head, admitting, "Scared doesn't even begin to describe it. I couldn't let it happen again. So when I got to the lab and Maki came up to me, I tried to hit him."

                There's a moment of surprised silence. It's not that nobody expects Eiji to be able to hit someone—he is a Kamen Rider, after all—but resorting to violence isn't usually his first choice.

                Another word resonates for Date, and he asks, "Tried?"

                Eiji shrugs and shakes his head. "At the last second, I went just past him and hit the wall. I don't remember what I was thinking—I think I might have told him to leave? I don't know if I wanted to scare him, or if I knew I was mad but I didn't want to hurt him..."

                "It's all right," Dr. Kunieda assures him. "That's a lot of information, even if you don't remember." He stands up and looks at Kougami. "For the last part, I'll need to talk to Eiji alone. Is there a good place we can sit and write?"

                "There's a library upstairs, where Eiji's been working on his research with the environmental division," he says. "I'm sure he'll find it more comfortable." Eiji nods slightly—that archive means something entirely different related to his trauma, and for all the trouble he's had trying to make sense of his research, it's easier.

                Satonaka escorts them up, then takes her leave. It's a little less interview this time and more a series of surveys, but Eiji works his way through them, trying to remain open and honest.

                When it's over and Dr. Kunieda goes through the results, he sits nervously for a few minutes before asking, "Is it..."

                Dr. Kunieda nods. "It's atypical, the way you express it, but I'm going to call it."

                It takes a few minutes before Eiji's able to step out of the room with him, but he sees everyone waiting for him. They don't say anything and don't expect him to say anything, but he has to name it.

                It's not as hard as he originally thought. He takes a breath, and yes, he shakes a bit, but he's able to say, "PTSD. Posttraumatic stress disorder." Then, with a slight smile, because he's finally starting to feel okay, he adds, "My own type, I guess. There's probably a few other problems right now, maybe anxiety and depression, but...that's it."

                That weight on his heart and mind starts to lessen, and the next thing he feels is his friends' arms around him, their hands holding his, their touches of comfort and strength. It's not just his burden to bear; it's something they can share, help him carry when he's not sure he can.

                One person's hands can only reach so far, and sometimes, that's okay—doing what you can to make a difference. But the more people that are there, the farther you can reach, the more you can carry.

                The King in his mind stands alone, the way he had at the end—having betrayed everyone he'd once had to support him. Eiji can stand against him, joining hands with everyone he's met, every friend who's helped him, and as long as he can do that, no matter where they are, his power will never waver.

 

~~~

 

                There's a nightmare he's had, off and on, since he had the purple Medals and started to lose his senses: He's standing alone in an endless expanse of sand, with nothing in sight in any direction. There's nothing to see but the sky and earth, nothing to feel but the air and sand, nothing to hear but his own voice. He's stripped away from everyone he loves, everything that keeps him grounded and safe.

                Maybe it's the medication finally taking effect, but he feels oddly peaceful as he stares out into nothing. He doesn't sense the terrible void of destruction, but a road he's never walked before, an unknown adventure.

                And it's not empty anymore. There's another presence, a back against his, and he smiles wistfully.

                "I was wondering if you'd show up," he says, strangely lucid.

                There's a huff behind him, and then he hears the familiar voice: "So you dreamed this up? Should have realized you don't have any imagination."

                It's Ankh. There's no mistaking it. Eiji lies down in the sand, looking up at the sky, and though Ankh isn't quite in sight, he can just barely feel his friend's shadow over him.

                "I like deserts," he admits, letting Ankh's aggravation roll off him like water. "Sure, there's not a lot, but there's so much in so little. The temperature can change drastically between day and night, so you can be burning under the sun and freezing under the stars. It's so clear you can see everything, and the sky just goes on endlessly."

                Ankh sounds less than impressed as he replies, "Don't try for metaphor. You're not smart enough to pull it off."

                It sounds too real, but it can't be. He lowers his gaze and stares off into the distance with a sad smile, answering, "You know, I don't need to take this from my own mind."

                Ankh roughly grabs him by the shirt, makes him look at him, and Eiji can feel the warmth from his hand.

                There's no mistaking it. It's Ankh.

                "I..." Eiji starts, too shocked to answer.

                "You really think you can dream all of this?" Ankh challenges.

                He shakes his head, and Ankh lets go. "I don't...I don't understand."

                Ankh snorts, walking around him as. "Not surprised."

                "No," he stammers, sitting up. "I mean...every time I saw you in a dream—was it you? Really you?"

                There's that smug way Ankh carries himself that confirms everything without him ever having to say anything, and Eiji asks, "Why? If you were there, if you could just...appear in my mind like that, why not..."

                "Why not fight your battles for you?" Ankh asks. "I fought the King once already. I'm not doing that again just because you want me to."

                "That's not what I mean," he argues, and he almost feels relieved at how annoyed he's getting. Ankh's trying to get a rise out of him. He never does that when he thinks he'll hurt Eiji. This means he trusts him to be okay.

                "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Eiji asks. "And why only those dreams—why haven't I seen you before that?"

                Ankh scowls. "It's not exactly easy doing this."

                Eiji nods. At least Ankh's trying to conserve his energy—his Medal may be better than it was, but it's still too weak to bring him back yet.

                "Have..." he starts hesitantly. "Am I the only one who's seen you? Or have you been able to see Hina yet?"

                There's a very slight lowering of Ankh's guard, and he says, "You've got my Medal. I've still got some of your energy."

                "So, no," Eiji realizes.

                "She'd only think it was a dream anyway," Ankh insists. "You're the only one dumb enough to believe in this kind of thing."

                Another attempt to annoy Eiji. He ignores it and asks, "Why now?"

                "Because you haven't been listening to a damn thing I said since you got back," he answers. "You keep reaching for me instead of looking for someone else's help."

                An uncertain feeling settles in for Eiji. The first dream he had when he came home, Ankh had been hurt; was this his fault, somehow, from trying to reach out to him subconsciously for help? Quietly, he asks, "Did I bring you into my dreams?"

                Ankh snorts. "Who knows?"

                Eiji's not sure what to say. If it's his fault that Ankh's using up energy like this when he should be resting, he should break the connection now. But he's not sure he can make himself say goodbye again.

                "Looks like you're finally figuring it out, though," Ankh admits. "Guess even you can't be _that_ much of an idiot."

                "Ankh, I..." he tries, but the words won't come.

                "Save it," Ankh insists. "I thought you said you were going to save me."

                The sudden accusation sends Eiji reeling. "I...I am. I'm trying."

                Ankh huffs again. "Then you'd better do what they say and get better. I'm not planning on waiting forty years for you to get your act together."

                Eiji can't help but smile—a complete smile, still so rare right now. "I will."

                Ankh doesn't look at him, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "Won't be long now."

                Eiji gives him a confused look for a moment before following his gaze. That's when he feels the dawning light on his face and wakes up.

                The sun is barely beginning to rise, and light is slowly spreading across the sky outside his window. Though his mind and body are still tired, he forces himself to sit up and watch the sunrise, wondering if maybe Ankh can also see the way the clouds light on fire in a blaze of color.

                He falls asleep again soon after morning officially begins, still facing the sun. For this brief moment, his mind is quiet and at peace.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Kamen Rider OOO_ is the property of Toei Company and Ishimori Productions. There are two very minor crossovers with _Agito_ and _Ryuki_ respectively with the characters Dr. Kunieda (from the special "A New Transformation") and Harada Takuya (from the episode "The Thirteenth Rider"), but because both were oneshot characters from their seasons, I figured I didn't need to list the series too.
> 
> As with the final chapter of the original "Kings and Vagabonds," there is some big inspiration from _The Legend of Korra_ by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, with Korra's recovery from her poisoning by the Red Lotus at the end of Book 3 and her continued psychological issues in Book 4. All information on PTSD in this fic comes from my own college studies and looking up the ICD-10 descriptions of the diagnosis.
> 
> The fic title and overall imagery of Eiji's recovering mental state as fragments coming together comes from the song "Pieces of Me" by One OK Rock.


End file.
